how we are like ants

I am a carpenter ant

Gnawing at the rotten flesh

Of a coniferous corpse, sweet

Honeydew leftovers on my

Antennae.

The forest fills its

Fountain pen in an

Inkwell of parasites and

Carves foul fate into my

Exoskeleton.

At first only a tickle,

Then an itch that irks

My malleable mind to

Madness, I am

Enthralled.

Its whispers are sweet

Sympathies in the absence of

Purpose, and its offers are

Irresistible, but was I ever given a

Choice?

Drunkenly, I am led to a plant

Whose veins course with verdant vibrancy

And into whom I shall

Sink my bloody black

Mandibles.

My legs stiffen and my

Abdomen is locked in a block of

Scalding ice as my body dies and a

Slender stalk sprouts from a hole in my

Head.

I am a vessel and

Unwillingly allowed the

Death of my identity and

I am content, I am

Cordyceps.